THE MASQUE OF ANARCHY:

WRITTEN ON THE OCCASION OF THE MASSACRE AT MANCHESTER.、

I.

As I lay asleep in Italy,

There came a voice from over the sea,

And with great power it forth led me

To walk in the visions of Poesy.

II.

I met Murder on the way-
He had a mask like Castlereagh.
Very smooth he looked, yet grim;
Seven bloodhounds followed him.

III.

All were fat; and well they might
Be in admirable plight,

For one by one, and two by two,

He tossed them human hearts to chew,
Which from his wide cloak he drew.

IV.

Next came Fraud, and he had-on,

Like Eldon, an ermined gown.

His big tears, for he wept well,
Turned to millstones as they fell;

V.

And the little children who

Round his feet played to and fro,

Thinking every tear a gem,

Had their brains knocked out by them.

VI.

Clothed with the bible, as with light

And the shadows of the night,

Like Sidmouth next, Hypocrisy
On a crocodile rode by.

VII.

And many more Destructions played In this ghastly masquerade,

All disguised, even to the eyes,

Like bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.

VIII.

Last came Anarchy; he rode

On a white horse splashed with blood;

He was pale even to the lips,

Like Death in the Apocalypse.

IX.

And he wore a kingly crown,

And in his grasp a sceptre shone;
On his brow this mark I saw-
"I AM GOD, AND KING, AND LAW."

X.

With a pace stately and fast
Over English land he passed,
Trampling to a mire of blood
The adoring multitude.

XI.

And a mighty troop around

With their trampling shook the ground,

Waving each a bloody sword

For the service of their lord.

XII.

And with glorious triumph they

Rode through England, proud and gay,

Drunk as with intoxication

Of the wine of desolation.

XIII.

O'er fields and towns, from sea to sea,

Passed the pageant swift and free,
Tearing up and trampling down,
Till they came to London town.

XIV.

And each dweller, panic-stricken,
Felt his heart with terror sicken,

Hearing the tempestuous cry
Of the triumph of Anarchy.

XV.

For with pomp to meet him came,
Clothed in arms like blood and flame,
The hired murderers who did sing,
"Thou art God, and Law, and King!

XVI.

"We have waited, weak and lone,

For thy coming, Mighty One!

Our purses are empty, our swords are cold; Give us glory, and blood, and gold."

XVII.

Lawyers and priests, a motley crowd,
To the earth their pale brows bowed,-
Like a bad prayer not over-loud,
Whispering "Thou art Law and God!"

XVIII.

Then all cried with one accord,

"Thou art King, and God, and Lord; Anarchy, to thee we bow ;

Be thy name made holy now!

XIX.

And Anarchy the skeleton

Bowed and grinned to every one

As well as if his education

Had cost ten millions to the nation.

XX.

For he knew the palaces

Of our kings were nightly his;

His the sceptre, crown, and globe,

And the gold-inwoven robe.

XXI.

So he sent his slaves before

To seize upon the Bank and Tower,
And was proceeding with intent
To meet his pensioned parliament,

XXII.

When one fled past, a maniac maid,
And her name was Hope, she said,
But she looked more like Despair;
And she cried out in the air :

XXIII.

"My father Time is weak and grey
With waiting for a better day;
See how idiot-like he stands,
Fumbling with his palsied hands!

XXIV.

"He has had child after child,

And the dust of death is piled

Over every one but me-
Misery! oh Misery!"

XXV.

Then she lay down in the street `Right before the horses' feet, Expecting with a patient eye Murder, Fraud, and Anarchy:

XXVI.

When between her and her foes
A mist, a light, an image rose,
Small at first, and weak and frail
Like the vapour of a vale:

XXVII.

Till, as clouds grow on the blast
Like tower-crowned giants striding fast,

And glare with lightnings as they fly,

And speak in thunder to the sky,

XXVIII.

It grew a shape arrayed in mail
Brighter than the viper's scale,
And upborne on wings whose grain
Was as the light of sunny rain.

XXIX.

On its helm seen far away

A planet like the morning's lay;

And those plumes its light rained through, Like a shower of crimson dew.

XXX.

With step as soft as wind it passed
O'er the heads of men: so fast

That they knew the presence there,

And looked-and all was empty air.

XXXI.

As flowers beneath May's footstep waken, As stars from Night's loose hair are shaken, As waves arise when loud winds call, Thoughts sprung where'er that step did fall.

XXXII.

And the prostrate multitude
Looked-and, ankle-deep in blood,
Hope, that maiden most serene,
Was walking with a quiet mien ;

XXXIII.

And Anarchy, the ghastly birth,
Lay dead earth upon the earth;
The horse of Death, tameless as wind,
Fled, and with his hoofs did grind

To dust the murderers thronged behind.

XXXIV.

A rushing light of clouds and splendour,
A sense awakening and yet tender,
Was heard and felt-and at its close
These words of joy and fear arose ;